


The One With Brody

by Laure001



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laure001/pseuds/Laure001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carrie is still with Brody. Quinn has 21 days to seduce her. </p><p>- So, why are you fucking the jerk? Quinn asked.<br/>- Who?<br/>- Brody.<br/>Carrie scoffed.<br/>- Wh- I… You're not supposed to ask these kind of questions, Quinn.<br/>- I’m asking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of this story was initially posted in my other series, called "Endings", so you might have already read it.  
> The second chapter is new!
> 
> (Thanks again and again to Leblanc1 for editing this story! :))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 2/Season 3

\- So, why are you fucking the jerk? Quinn asked.

\- Who?

\- Brody.

Carrie scoffed, even drank a little water to give herself a calm countenance – the waiter arrived at the same moment, he almost threw the burgers on the table – nope, this was not the Astoria.

\- Wh- I… You're not supposed to ask these kind of questions, Quinn.

\- I’m asking.

Carrie gulped a little more water – no wine, they were going back to work on the Armano’s files after dinner, Quinn had said – and he was her boss, after all.

\- You can ask. I can refuse to answer.

Quinn smiled.

\- You’re flustered. Why are you flustered? You could just say “I fuck the guy because I like him”. Or “I fuck the guy because I want to keep an eye on him, because I think he is connected to this Armano thing.” 

\- Brody is not connected to the Armano thing.

\- Oh, come on, Carrie, even you don’t believe that.

But she did believe it – Abu-Nazir was dead, his group had been more or less dismantled (except that, yes, maybe Armano was connected to the asshole.) Brody and his wife had separated, he was still a Congressman, because Estes and Saul had decided that he was more useful to them that way - to see if survivors of the Nazir’s network would contact him. But Brody was clean now, he had gone through his redemption phase, Carrie thought – and he had killed Walden to save her, but of course – she couldn’t tell Quinn that.

And Brody said he had no idea about the Armano thing. She trusted him. She did. She trusted Brody now. Right?

It was dark outside – already 9 pm. They were sitting near the window, reinforced glass, obviously, considering the circumstances – every restaurant, every shop in town had them now.

\- I do believe him. I do believe Brody hadn't even heard about Armano, Carrie finally answered – she had regained her calm. I trust him.

Quinn sighed.

\- For shit’s sake.

He looked thoughtful, almost serious for a moment – his smirk had disappeared. Then he added:

\- Your answer is a problem, Carrie. And I’m going to tell you why. But first, a drink?

\- Alcohol? I mean, sure – great - but aren’t we going back to work after?

-No, we're not.

She smiled.

\- What’s my boss gonna say?

\- “Whisky?”

\- Sure. It’s gonna suck in this joint, though.

\- Don’t really care.

Quinn stood up and walked to the counter to order, Carrie was still working on her burger and fries – greasy, but not too bad – when a zombie just crashed upon the window outside, less than one feet from her – leaving a little slime on the glass, punching the window with its decaying hand – Carrie yawned, thinking about redoing her lipstick – but then she changed her mind – I mean, lipstick, for Quinn? Anyway, lipstick and fries, not a good combination – the zombie was still banging, but the glass was mostly soundproof, a teenage girl appeared behind the creature with her official Zknife© in hand, said something to draw the thing’s attention and then dispatched him with a quick blow between the eyes, her friends applauded and cheered, they had beers in their hands, but at least they were observing the official recommendation to travel in groups. The zombie fell and disappeared from Carrie’s view, the teenagers went on their merry way, and Quinn was back with two (very full) glasses.

\- Ok, he said, after they both had taken a sip. Listen to me. Sleep with the guy if you want – although I think you shouldn’t – but don’t fucking trust him, Carrie. I mean, are you crazy? Keeping secrets, having a double life – that’s what fuels Brody. The guy has nothing else. He is his secrets.

\- No I… (Carrie shook her head and thought for a while. Then she took another sip.) Ok. Maybe.

\- Thank you.

\- I do not mean: “Maybe he is connected to the Armano thing”. I mean maybe, yes, the thing with the secrets, and the layers. There is truth in that.

\- Glad all the sex didn’t shut down your brain, Carrie.

\- My brain never shuts down.

\- Yeah, I've seen. (Quinn sighed again, sipped his drink in silence.) I don’t like it, he continued, at last, and there was a strange sincerity in his voice. I don’t like that you’re involved with him.

Carrie felt a little uneasy – she fidgeted in her chair a little – for no reason at all.

\- Why?

\- Why? Really? You’re asking why? The guy is a terrorist. He’s been brainwashed, and then brainwashed the other way again. He’s a liar and a murderer. He may or may not be connected to this Zombie outbreak, thanks to Nazir and Armano. He got you institutionalized, you got electric shocks – I mean, Carrie, think about it! That’s the man who lied so much to everybody that you got EST just for telling the truth - and now he’s putting his dick in you, with a rose and a fucking smile!

Carrie shivered – then she felt a little nauseous – that had punched her in the gut, harder than she thought it would – of course she knew these things, no news to her, but – fuck Quinn and his stupid bluntness, always blurting things with no nuance or subtlety or…

She shivered again.

\- Fuck you, she muttered, when she had rediscovered her voice – not looking at him. (Her eyes were even a little shiny.) And what the fuck is it to you, anyway?

\- Your behavior is self-destructive.

\- Oh yeah? Well, fuck you again.

\- This relationship is unhealthy and… I don’t know, just… fucking screwed up.

\- Yeah, well, FUCK you, Quinn. (And elderly couple stared at the table near them, but neither Carrie nor Quinn really gave a damn.) Why do you care? I don’t even… We’ve known each other, for, what, six months?

\- First, it is in everybody’s best interest that the members of my team don’t, you know, self-destruct.

\- Stop saying this. Shit. I’m not self-destructing. I am…

\- Second, if you were single, then you and I could fuck.

Carrie scoffed – again – then stared at him, aghast. Quinn smirked, clearly amused by her reaction.

\- Are you serious? she asked.

\- Oh yeah.

Carrie took her whisky, finished it in one draw.

\- You are serious.

\- Yes.

\- You want to fuck me.

\- I’d rather the feeling was mutual. It’s generally more pleasant that way.

\- Well, I’m… I’m…

\- Yes?

\- With Brody.

\- I’m a much better choice than Brody.

\- I don’t think you really are. First, you are my boss.

\- Yes. Again: boss… or "traitor and terrorist". Which is worse?

\- And you are… (Carrie stared at him, right in the eyes.) I know stuff. About you.

\- Ah, stuff. Stuff is always interesting. What stuff?

\- Black Ops? she whispered. (Then Carrie stared at something through the window, and just said:) Quinn.

Quinn followed her gaze – three zombies were out there, stumbling forward in direction of the church, and there was a woman walking towards them (alone). She had just stopped, noticing them, she was taking her Zknife© out of her handbag, but her hands were slightly trembling.

\- For God’s sake, Quinn muttered, he stood up, took his gun, put a hand on Carrie’s shoulder, squeezing it for the briefest second, and then he walked outside – everyone in the restaurant was watching, Quinn walked to the zombies, raised his arm and calmly dispatched them, one bullet in each head, just between the eyes, three perfect shots.

\- Your husband is good, said a lady, from the elderly couple that had given them the stink eye with all the “Fucks” earlier.

\- He’s not my husband, Carrie answered, her shoulder burning. But yeah, he’s good.

Quinn was scolding the woman outside. She deserved it; I mean, if you’re alone, take your car, for fuck’s sake. Then he walked back – all eyes on him – the waiter thanked him: “For all of us. The meal is on us, sir", he even added.

\- Show off, Carrie said, smiling, when Quinn sat down again.

\- I try. Where were we?

She leaned toward him with a provocative look.

\- Discussing the fact that you were a government sponsored professional murderer?

\- Yeah, he said, in the same tone. (Then he leaned toward her.) Still a better choice than Brody.

Carrie was slightly taken aback. By… the situation? By the brutal, uncompromising truth of it all? It was not her first charged conversation with a man, far from it, but she had never been – wooed – this way. With this raw, unapologetic brusqueness, and also – she still felt the phantom of his hand – Quinn was obnoxious, most of the time – but…

He was watching her, staring really, analysing her.

\- So? What do you think? Gonna dump the jerk?

\- Well I… I…

Obviously, she couldn’t. I mean… she couldn’t. Right?

\- No, Quinn, she said – reddening a little – he was right, she was flustered. I… I can’t, I mean… I don’t want to. Brody and I, we’ve been through so much together… Sorry. No.

Quinn leaned back on his chair.

\- It’s fine.

\- It is?

\- Sure. I know what you're going through. I’ve been in love with the “wrong one” before. It’s a phase. It will pass.

\- It will?

\- Yes. In fact, now that I’m in the picture - it’s over with you and Brody. I give it three weeks.

\- Oh, of course. Because, I mean, now that I know you are interested, Quinn – how can I resist, right?

\- Exactly. You said it yourself, Carrie – you brain can’t stop working. So you’ll draw comparisons…

\- Sure. That’s what I’m going to do all day – think about you. Instead of working on Armano and the Zombie outbreak…

\- Absolutely. You will be obsessed by me, 24/7. You will see Brody’s face, and think: “Hey, Quinn’s more handsome”. You will have sex with him, and you’ll wonder: “Maybe Quinn’s better.”

\- Oh God you’re such an ass, she said, laughing.

\- Brody will tell you something, and you’ll wonder if he’s lying. While I wouldn’t lie. And you will think: “Quinn respects my intelligence. That man… tried to destroy mine.”

Carrie glared at him – she wasn’t laughing anymore.

\- That’s fucking evil, what you just said, Quinn. And it won’t work.

\- Just the truth, Carrie. And it will.

There was a silence – they stared at each other, measuring each other up, like enemies.

\- Three weeks, he repeated. Think about it.

They stared again – then she softened a little – or maybe she was just tired – or maybe she was flattered – or maybe – who knew. She observed the street for a while, the night and the town and the unknown out there, then turned back to Quinn with a sad, sweet smile which pierced his heart, right there, in this stupid classless joint.

\- I’d better go home, she said, slowly.

\- I’ll walk you to your car.

He stood up, offered her her coat – he was not usually that gallant, but maybe he wanted to downplay the animosity of the last exchanges – he was very careful not to touch her - because of her sudden sadness, it would have felt like – taking advantage – he felt a little unsettled himself, to be honest – he could… protect her, if she only let him – when they walked to the door, he got out first ("chivalry in the time of zombies") and the cold air seemed to revive her, she smiled again, with true mirth this time.

\- You seem so sure of yourself. Three weeks is a very aggressive estimate.

\- I have my ways of knowing.

\- Superpowers?

\- Bitten by a precog radioactive spider.

She laughed, then thought of something and frowned.

\- Hey, wait a minute. Was that a date?

\- Yep. At least I had hoped it would turn out to be.

\- You planned it?

\- Of course.

\- God. You are so full of it, all the fucking time. And you actually believe we will end up together.

Quinn smiled back – his most cocky, pretentious, radiant smile.

\- No, Carrie. I know we will.

 

(To be continued...)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on “The One with Brody”.
> 
> Quinn: I give it three weeks. You and Brody, I mean. Now that you know I’m interested.  
> Carrie: Yeah, like, whatever! As if!  
> Quinn: We’ll see.
> 
> (Plus, Zombies!)

Dear Reader,

Three weeks = 21 days, right? 

**Day One**

The 4 pm meet was… more eventful than expected. Quinn was on a roof, shooting, regularly, (BLAM), Carrie was running in the street below, zombies trying to get her, Quinn kept gunning them down, (BLAM), (BLAM) (BLAM). Carrie didn’t stop – she couldn’t, she had to go through the door at exactly 3.54, another Zombie, (BLAM), Quinn got him in the left eye at the precise moment he was going to put his dirty undead hand on Carrie’s shoulder. 

She wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

\- Damn, you are a good shot, she said in a low voice – but he heard her fine through the earpiece.

\- I am. Another point in my favor. So? (BLAM.) Dumped Brody yet?

(BLAM)

\- No, and you know what, Quinn? The night passed - and I’m not obsessing about you 24/7, like you said I would. In fact, I’m not obsessing about you at all.

(BLAM)

\- Sure you are, Carrie. For instance… Just picture me naked.

(BLAM)

\- I am not…

(BLAM)

\- Yes you are. You are picturing me right now.

(BLAM)

Carrie was laughing.

(BLAM)

\- See? You’re picturing it, right this second. 

\- Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not liking what I’m seeing. 

\- Not possible, sorry.

(No more zombies. But Quinn was staying vigilant. Carrie was by the door know, but it was not open yet. It was an electronical lock, their contact had to unlock from the inside, he had promised, but...)

\- So Brody denied any previous knowledge of the Zombie virus? Quinn asked. Even to you? He still pretends he didn’t know about Nazir’s plan?

\- Quinn, said Carrie, with a little exasperation. He didn’t. I’m sure of it.

There was a pause. Carrie had stopped. She was looking around; she seemed tense, Quinn thought. 

\- You know, I have a timetable, he said.

\- Huh?

\- Steps we have to go through, during those three weeks.

\- What three weeks?

\- The three weeks I get to seduce you.

Carrie was too far, he couldn’t see her smile, but he heard it.

\- Oh yeah? Like what?

\- Like, day four, I have to kiss you.

\- In three days?

\- Yes.

\- Not gonna happen.

\- Sorry, Carrie, you have no choice in the matter. I haven’t either. The kiss is an obligation.

\- Because it’s on the timetable?

\- Exactly. 

\- What happens if we don’t follow the timetable?

\- The world explodes. 

\- Convenient. 

Quinn looked at his phone. The contact was late. The door should have been opened by now.

\- Hey, I’m not trying to lure you into my bed you for my own amusement, Carrie. This is for your sake, to get you away from a very bad man. I mean, I’m doing God’s work here.

\- Very generous of you, Carrie answered, but she seemed distracted.

Of course, now their contact was two minutes late, fuck, and Carrie was all alone in that back alley, waiting, zombies could show again anytime.

\- You cannot choose between Brody and me if you don’t have ways of comparing us, Quinn added. That’s why we have to kiss, so you can…

_Click._

\- Quinn, the door’s open, Carrie whispered.

\- Go.

And just like that, she was in. 

 

**Day Two.**

**11 pm**

Carrie, with Brody, in bed.

\- Brody.

\- Yes, he said distractedly.

He had a lot of files to read, it was a lot of work, being a Congressman, an ex-terrorist and a CIA asset.

\- Nazir hadn’t told you, about the Zombie Virus. You didn’t know. Right?

Brody sighed, put the documents down.

\- For God’s sake, Carrie. We had this conversation a hundred times.

\- And we’re having it a hundred and one.

\- No, Nazir hadn’t told me anything. I didn’t know about the outbreak, I have never even met Armano, Carrie, ok?

\- Ok.

Brody paused, and looked at Carrie. It was not a happy look.

\- So I guess you’re seeing a lot of Peter Quinn these days.

\- Oh come on.

\- Oh “come on” back at you, Carrie. Do you think I don't know where this sudden suspicion is coming from? I mean, the guy planted a knife in my hand.

\- With good reason. (Carrie put her arm around Brody, and kissed him.) But… I know. Sorry I asked the question again.

\- I hate that man, Brody mumbled, but he kissed her back. He wants something.

\- I want something, said Carrie, with _that _smile.__

__Brody smiled._ _

__\- Really?_ _

__He was happy to oblige._ _

__

__**Day three** _ _

__**5 pm** _ _

__Underground parking lot._ _

__Sub level one: Brody waiting, for Armano to show. Very bored._ _

__Sub level two: Quinn and Carrie, waiting, looking at their monitors, very bored. On their monitors, Brody, very bored._ _

__\- I think Zombies are symbolic, Carrie said, after a while._ _

__She was slouching on a plastic chair, in this tiny space, I mean, you couldn’t even call it a room. The parking lot was from the 70’s, parts of it had never been finished, it was a damn subterranean labyrinth, you got out of the elevator, there were concrete corridors and doors everywhere, the world more complicated parking lot of all times._ _

__\- Zombies are symbolic? Quinn repeated, slouched on his own stupid uncomfortable plastic chair. They feel very fucking real to me._ _

__\- Yes, obviously, they are a real threat, Carrie explained. But I mean, before – all those zombies shows, those zombies movies – you know, before the real zombies showed up… I think people liked them so much because zombies symbolize our dark thoughts, our fears, our secrets shames… Our horrible secrets and failures and terrors and demons! (Quinn looked with amusement as Carrie began gesturing, mimicking Zombies getting out of the grave.) And they suddenly rise up from your unconscious and want to devour you! And the fight against them, it’s the fight of all of us trying to survive, to reach for the light while our anguished thoughts try to eat us alive…_ _

__\- Sure. Maybe. Why not. (Quinn yawned, and looked at the monitor.) Do you think Amarno’s gonna show up?_ _

__\- I don’t know. We've been waiting a long time. (Carrie frowned.) It’s weird. That woman who gave Brody the meet, she seemed very… she did a good job convincing him._ _

__\- Yeah._ _

__Carrie looked at Quinn and smiled._ _

__\- You don’t seem the type to have horrible secrets and failures and terrors though._ _

__Quinn watched her for a while – that beautiful smile – that was a plus, with all this seduction game he was making her smile a lot more._ _

__\- I hide them well._ _

__\- Really? You seem always so self-assured. What are your… fears?_ _

__Quinn took a little time to think. About how much he could reveal._ _

__\- Let’s say… I’m happy that this zombie menace showed up, he stated, at last. Because those are real, non-ambiguous enemies. We know they’re lethal. I can fight them without… wondering if we’re on the right side of things._ _

__Carrie frowned._ _

__\- Are we not on the right side of things?_ _

__\- Most of the time, I guess, Quinn said prudently._ _

__\- We are this time._ _

__\- Oh, definitely. If we could only catch the fuckers who… Hey, your boyfriend trying to say something._ _

__Brody was gesturing in direction of the ceiling, where he knew the cameras were hidden. He showed the time on his phone, and shrugged. Then he did a little “bye” sign, and began to leave._ _

__\- Well, he’s been waiting for three hours, Carrie said._ _

__\- Yeah. I guess he can go. I mean, he’s so useful. (Quinn stretched.) You know, I’ve given this issue a lot of thought…_ _

__\- What issue?_ _

__\- And let’s face it, I’m definitely more handsome than Brody._ _

__Carrie rolled her eyes._ _

__\- Whatever, Quinn. How do you figure that?_ _

__\- I’m in better shape. And my features are more… He is odd, in the… face area._ _

__\- He’s odd in the face area? What does that even mean?_ _

__\- It means, I look better than him._ _

__Carrie frowned._ _

__\- Whatever, she repeated, before saying: it’s strange, though. They took all these pains to establish the meet, and now they don’t even show up. Do you think we’ve been made?_ _

__\- I don’t think so, Quinn answered, slowly. But…_ _

__\- Why don’t we wait a little? Maybe they’re late. I mean, Brody’s gone, but at least if someone shows up we’ll have them on video._ _

__\- Sure. (Quinn shrugged.) I like being stuck in a claustrophobic subterranean concrete room with you._ _

__His tone was ironic, but he has a real smile, and Carrie smiled back._ _

__\- You know, she said – Quinn, I mean, we’re friends, right? I know, I know, there is this “twenty-one days to fuck Carrie” challenge going on…_ _

__\- Eighteen now. But who’s counting. Also, we have to kiss in two days, don’t forget._ _

\- Oh, we _have_ to? 

__\- Yeah._ _

__\- Anyway, you’re my boss, and you’re a mean black ops assassin…_ _

__\- And I like pineapple pizza, Quinn added. It’s messy._ _

__\- But still, we’re friends, right? Despite all that._ _

__Quinn smiled again – a real one, again._ _

__\- Yes._ _

__\- You could talk to me. I mean, if you wanted. About…_ _

__\- About?_ _

__\- Zombies. I mean, metaphorical ones._ _

__Quinn looked at her for a long time – with a very amused look, but there was also a sort of tenderness, and Carrie felt suddenly a little – she stood up – maybe it was not a good idea to stay, with Quinn, alone, for hours, in a small claustrophobic subterranean concrete room after all._ _

__\- Sorry. I mean, I guess we should pack up, she muttered._ _

__The amusement disappeared – something like disappointment fluttered quickly in Quinn’s eyes – and then he jumped on his feet._ _

__\- Someone’s coming._ _

Carrie looked at the monitor – nobody – and then she realized what Quinn was saying – someone was coming _here_. To _them_. Someone was approaching their little makeshift ops room. She froze, listening. 

__Quinn had already a gun in hand._ _

__\- Get back, he said._ _

__She obeyed, opening the door behind them – the other corridor was empty._ _

__\- Clear, she announced. (Then she nodded toward the monitor.) Quinn._ _

__A black car. It stopped. Five armed men got out._ _

__Quinn ordered:_ _

__\- Let’s move._ _

__They retreated, in the maze of blind corridors – Carrie had always hated underground parking lots, and this one was particularly bad, a real maze – “We’re leaving sensitive material behind,” she whispered, “Lives first,” Quinn answered, and then they took a wrong turn, opened a door and found themselves in a strange dead end – maybe it was supposed to be a basement but it never had been finished - two guys appeared behind them and prepared to shoot and… Carrie didn’t even have the time to be scared that they were already dead, Quinn had killed them both, it was weirdly anticlimactic._ _

__\- There are at least five more, she said. The car._ _

__\- Yep. Stay here, Carrie. It’s a fucking order._ _

__\- But…_ _

__- _Stay here.__ _

__… And Quinn was gone – slamming the door behind him – leaving Carrie alone in the dead end, with two dead bodies, and no light._ _

__\- Quinn! she yelled – but not too loud, cause, bad guys lurking – no answer anyway._ _

__Carrie concentrated, trying to listen - his light footsteps, a door, and then – shouting – and then – shots. Multiple shots – silence – doors slamming – multiple shots again – fuck. Quinn was all alone, somewhere, in this fucking death trap, against five men – no. No. No way, she wasn’t going to stay here – order or no fucking order - she was going to help him – she was going to take one of the dead guys’ weapon and go except there was no light, ok, she just had to open the door and –_ _

__The door was locked._ _

__Quinn hadn’t locked it from the outside, she would have heard (and he was not that crazy). No, the fucking door must have gotten stuck somehow – Carrie shook it and she kicked it and – did I mention there was no light? She then looked for her Zknife©, to pry it open, but she had left the bag in the ops room (the official pack with the Zknife© and the ZBitesaver© and the antibiotics shots,) she kicked the door again, but it wouldn’t budge, and…_ _

__One of the corpses began to move._ _

__(Dear Reader, you remember how zombies work, right? During a Zombie Outbreak, people die, then resuscitate and become zombies. They try to eat you, and if you’re bitten, you die and become a zombie yourself. Then you want to bite other people.)_ _

__And now Carrie was locked up in a tiny little concrete dark space with no weapon and a zombie._ _

__The other corpse began to move._ _

__Make that two._ _

__**_ _

__Quinn heard the shots and the screams when it was too late. He had killed one of the guys at first , wounded two others, and they fled – one of them had grabbed the hard drive in the ops room and Quinn got to him just in time – killed him too – if they had put their hands on the info it would have been the end of Brody – not that Quinn would have minded on a personal level, but on a professional one it would have been a disaster – the car drove off and Quinn slowly walked back and _then_ he heard the growling and the yelling and the… _ _

__He began to run._ _

__Shots. Well, one shot, he tried to open the door (frantically), his body was drenched in a cold sweat. He took his gun:_ _

__\- Carrie, get down!_ _

__(BLAM)_ _

__He kicked the door open. And here she was, leaning on the wall, covered with blood. From head to toe._ _

__\- Hi, she said._ _

__Looking – very strange._ _

__Two zombies were dead on the floor. One had been – its head had been crushed, multiple blows, one of Carrie’s shoes was laying on the floor in a pool of blood. The other creature had its brain blown out, Carrie had the gun still in her hands, she crouched down and put it slowly on the floor, all her movements were very slow._ _

__\- I don’t think I’ve been bitten, she said. I fought them off. I… I don’t think I’ve been bitten._ _

__Blood. _Everywhere.__ _

__\- I fought them off, she continued, and then I… found the gun and I... I don’t think I’ve been bitten._ _

__Quinn just stared at her for a few seconds – he had to… They had to… He opened his pack, found the antibiotics shot, “I don’t think…” Carrie started again but he didn’t even listen, he took her arm and injected her before she could react – she looked at him with a blank stare, he helped her to the ops room, there was a dead body in there – one of the bad guys, and yes, the body was beginning to move too._ _

__Quinn sat Carrie in a chair, took his military knife, crouched down near the newborn zombie and SHLAK, between the eyes._ _

__\- I’m fine, Carrie repeated._ _

__She stood up – Quinn put his hands on her shoulders._ _

__\- Carrie, we have to check you for bites._ _

__\- Yeah. Yes, she said, a little lost._ _

__\- I injected you right away, so I think you should be fine, but we have to check you for bites._ _

__\- Sure._ _

__And suddenly she looked at him – and she was back, she was not under shock any more – or at least her brain was working again – and that’s when she realized - what Quinn had understood as soon as he opened the door. It was not fine, at all. She had not used the Zbitesaver©. And the antibiotics had to be injected less than twenty-five seconds after the bite, which, clearly didn’t happen._ _

__So if she _had_ been bitten, then…_ _

__\- Shit, Quinn, she whispered. Shit._ _

__\- Let’s not freak out before… Let’s just check for bites._ _

__But there was too much blood, they could not see, so they went to the tiny bathroom on sub-level one, and there, they checked every part of Carrie’s body, Quinn carefully wiping the blood with a wet towel, slowly, and there was a lot of blood, but there was no bite._ _

__

__**Day Four** _ _

__Evening. Nice restaurant._ _

__\- So you were stuck in that parking lot, said Brody. Together. For hours. You, and Quinn._ _

__(Nice _and_ expensive restaurant. Brody was a politician big shot, after all.) Carrie smiled. She was wearing a beautiful black dress with a very nice cleavage._ _

__\- Yes. For hours._ _

__\- And Quinn… checked you. For bites. All over your naked body._ _

__Carrie’s smile got bigger. She took her glass of wine and leaned toward Brody._ _

__\- Mr Congressman, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were a little jealous._ _

__\- I am not jealous, I am… interested._ _

__\- In Quinn?_ _

__\- In your relationship with him._ _

__\- Come on, Brody. He’s my boss._ _

__\- Yeah, and no one ever had an affair with…_ _

__\- I’m having an affair with *you*, said Carrie, half laughing, half concerned._ _

__Cause it was a matter for concern. Brody was her… lover? Boyfriend? Well, whatever the name, they were together, but he was also their asset. The team’s asset. Nazir was dead, but they were trying to learn if Abu Nazir’s faction (Armano and Moretti and consorts) were behind the Zombie outbreak. It was the whole reason for this operation, and if Brody didn’t get along with Quinn, who was the head of said operation, well, that was bad news._ _

__\- Yes, Quinn and I were together all evening in a parking lot, she sighed. In the company of seven bad guys, and two - no - three of them turned into zombies. So it was… Let’s just say that the romance part was really minimal._ _

_Liar liar who lies._ The thought crossed Carrie’s mind in a flash – except she was not lying – or – _stop this,_ she thought, _you’ll consider that later, the priority was to get Brody off track…_

Except something had showed in her eyes, and Brody noticed, and now something was showing in _his_ eyes, _I’ve been made_ , Carrie thought (and then, like: _What? Made for what? Nothing happened!_ ) 

__… Brody was silent, watching her, and Carrie held his stare for a few seconds._ _

___Damn._ _ _

__\- Fine, he said, and smiled. Bad guys, people shooting, zombies. I get it._ _

__\- You do? Good. I’m glad, Carrie said, smiling too._ _

__Both knowing that the other was lying and knowing that the other perfectly knew._ _

__Brody smiled again._ _

__\- Then, let me tell you about the housing committee._ _

__He did, and contrary to what one might think, it was very interesting, well, when you're into politics, it was very interesting. Brody was actually trying to do some good here, and he was a great narrator, having a field day explaining to Carrie the ridiculousness and petty ambitions of his peers, and it was pretty interesting to hear how he navigated all that and succeeded to actually get things done._ _

__Carrie was listening with rapt attention - it was pretty impressive how Brody could be at the same time a spy and a congressman – and gifted in both. He was a great politician, she thought. Born for the job. Of course Carrie knew that by telling her the story of his latest success, Brody was trying to look powerful, certainly he had realized that jealousy would get him nowhere, he had to impress Carrie and not scold her. Yes, Carrie was aware of the plan, but it was a good plan, and it totally worked – she _was _impressed, and smiling, and in love, and Brody felt it, he drank the admiration in her eyes and his smile changed, becoming softer. He took Carrie’s hand and said:___ _

____\- Carrie… What the hell is this fucker doing here?_ _ _ _

____Carrie started – before following Brody’s gaze. And guess who was in the restaurant – Quinn, in the company of a very pretty blond, at a table for three._ _ _ _

____And Quinn seemed very engrossed by this woman’s presence – smiling at her, like Brody had been smiling at Carrie only seconds before, but then Carrie felt Brody stare on her – again – and she commented, lightly:_ _ _ _

____\- He’s on a date, I guess._ _ _ _

____\- Yes, Brody added. But – hey, I know this woman. She’s with the BND. Actually today we…_ _ _ _

____The woman turned towards them – sensing Brody’s gaze._ _ _ _

____\- Congressman Brody!_ _ _ _

____She stood up instantly, smiling – ditching Quinn on the spot, thought Carrie with a certain satisfaction. The woman walked to their table._ _ _ _

____\- Astrid, how are you? Brody said. I thought you’d be tired of me already, but here you are, stalking me._ _ _ _

____\- I would not use the word “stalking”, said the woman, all cold beauty and professional smiles, but I am certainly glad to see you again, sir._ _ _ _

____Carrie was watching Quinn, who seemed extremely unhappy with the chance meeting. He stood up too, after a while, and reluctantly walked toward the table as well, while Brody was explaining:_ _ _ _

____\- Astrid and I spent all morning together, locked in a room talking about anti-terrorism measures. ( _Antiterrorism? Ironic,_ Carrie thought, but she didn’t care, honestly, she was mostly wondering what Quinn was thinking.) Well, of course, Brody added, we were not alone. It was Astrid, myself, and seven experts…_ _ _ _

____\- Seven? I thought there were a hundred, Astrid laughed – but the smile didn’t get to her eyes, Carrie thought, the woman was in lobbying mode – and Astrid proved it right away by saying:_ _ _ _

____\- So, Congressman, have you given a little thought to our proposal?_ _ _ _

____Brody protested._ _ _ _

____\- Oh come on Astrid, work? At this hour? Have you no heart? I think…_ _ _ _

____\- Hi, Carrie, Quinn interrupted. (Then he made a little theatrical little bow.) Congressman Brody…_ _ _ _

____His smile was so ironic than Carrie glared at him. Astrid ignored the whole exchange and said:_ _ _ _

____\- Work? Of course not. It’s just that it such an interesting topic, I thought there was still a lot to discuss…_ _ _ _

____\- There is, Astrid, there is, Brody said. In fact... Why don’t join us? he added, with a large smile, (a “I’m so happy to steal Quinn’s thunder and captivate all his date’s attention” smile.)_ _ _ _

____Carrie and Quinn instantly protested, Astrid instantly accepted:_ _ _ _

____\- Such a great idea!_ _ _ _

____\- There is a bigger table right here, Brody said, gesturing to the waiter, hardly hiding his amusement – Carrie stopped protesting, truth was, she was a little curious to know more about Quinn’s date, and also, it was clear that Quinn’s mood was getting worse and worse every second, his stare was getting darker, and it was kind of amusing.____

They all walked to the new table, Quinn met Carrie's eyes, he saw the laughter in them, and answered with a look of challenge. Then he sat down. 

____\- Of course, he said. Let’s all have dinner. There’s nothing I’d like more. I mean, such fine, outstanding company. Salt of the earth._ _ _ _

____\- But – Astrid began to explain – I have to tell you, Congressman Brody…_ _ _ _

____\- Please, Brody said, with the most gallant smile. Call me Nicholas._ _ _ _

____\- Well… Ok, Nicholas, Astrid said. (Quinn was rolling his eyes so hard.) I have to warn you - we’re waiting for someone. A colleague of mine… More like a rival, really, but we sympathized on the plane. Actually, Astrid added, sitting down too, you’re meeting with him tomorrow, Congressman. He’s arguing for the other side – I like him anyway, just don’t listen to him, he’s from that Foundation – hey, here he is! Jonas! Come here!_ _ _ _

____A very good looking man had just entered the restaurant – actually, a very VERY good looking man, Carrie instantly rearranged her hair – and smiled – Jonas walked towards them, definitely noticing Carrie too, he smiled back (Quinn had noticed the smile and the rearranging and the attention and he rolled his eyes again with exasperation.)_ _ _ _

____\- Jonas, our dinner plans have evolved drastically, Astrid explained. But you will not be sorry – this is Congressman Brody._ _ _ _

____\- Hi, said Brody, with his more radiant smile. (Anything to dazzle Quinn’s guests, Carrie thought – and her smile grew wider – yep, you know what, this dinner was actually great fun.)_ _ _ _

____Jonas got into the necessary polite chit chat with Brody; Carrie took her phone and quickly typed:_ _ _ _

____*So, you are on a “18 days to fuck Carrie challenge” and you are dating other blondes?”*_ _ __

____Send._ _ _ _

____Quinn took his phone with a nonchalant air – while Jonas turned to look at Carrie again._ _ _ _

____\- So, Congressman, I suppose this is your beautiful wife?_ _ _ _

____\- Oh, his wife… Quinn instantly interjected. (While typing something on his phone.) Yes, are you, Carrie?_ _ _ _

____\- Well, said Brody, putting his arm around Carrie’s shoulders – not yet, but hopefully one day…_ _ _ _

____\- Doesn’t your divorce have to be final first? Quinn commented, in his most neutral voice (then he pressed “send” and put his phone back the table.)_ _ _ _

____Astrid and Jonas froze for the slightest moment, and Carrie could have sworn, by Quinn’s wince, that Astrid had kicked him (hard) under the table. Jonas drank a sip of wine to hide his expression and Brody answered with perfect tranquillity:_ _ _ _

____\- My divorce has been final for at least two weeks._ _ _ _

____\- Time for true love then, Quinn answered – still smiling.____

Astrid quickly began to draw Brody in conversation - Carrie took her phone and read Quinn's text: * Want to be exclusive? Just say the word. * 

Jonas turned to her: 

____\- So, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Jonas Hollander, I work for the During Foundation._ _ _ _

____\- Oh yes – I’ve heard of it, Carrie said with her most charming smile. Aren’t you a bunch of idealistic peace-loving hippies?_ _ _ _

____\- That’s us, Jonas said lightly, and he added, in a conspiratorial tone: but we have a lot of money - and soon he and Carrie were lost in conversation, _my_ , he was a good looking man, meanwhile, Quinn was contradicting everything Brody was saying; Carrie had sent him another text, he read:_ _ _ _

____* Don’t you think you’re going a little fast? And you’re not that efficient, too. I mean, we were supposed to kiss today, and that didn’t even happen. *_ _ _ _

____\- Sorry, work thing, Quinn explained to Astrid (who was focusing on Brody and totally ignoring him anyway.)_ _ _ _

____He took his phone back and answered instantly:_ _ _ _

____* It’s not midnight yet. *_ _ _ _

____\- Sorry, an overeager colleague, Carrie explained to Jonas after a look at her phone._ _ _ _

____Jonas smiled, put his hand on Carrie's arm and whispered in her ear:_ _ _ _

____\- Just tell him to get lost._ _ _ _

____(Yes, it could be argued that Jonas had a little too much to drink. Also, he had just landed, he was tired, tipsy, and Carrie had a great dress.)_ _ _ _

____\- But, Quinn intervened, from the other side of the table, won’t it be awkward after? I mean, if you have to work with the guy._ _ _ _

____\- Yeah, I kind of have to be polite to my colleague, Carrie explained. What time is it, Jonas?_ _ _ _

____\- 22:02._ _ _ _

____\- Two hours till midnight. Fine. It’s _on_ , then, Carrie said. (To nobody in particular. Jonas frowned.)_ _ _ _

____\- What is “on”?_ _ _ _

____\- Erm… The political debate, Carrie answered, gesturing toward Brody and Astrid, who were, indeed, in a very heated discussion about information laws._ _ _ _

____Quinn waved to the waiter._ _ _ _

____\- Another bottle of wine – the same, he asked. (He leaned toward Carrie.) Oh yes. It is _so_ on._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____(To be continued!)_ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to Leblanc1 and Ascloseasthis who edited this fic although they were both super busy! And you don't want to know the conversations we had about Advil and Xanax and Vicodin.

Previously, on “The One with Brody”:

Quinn: Dear Reader, we’re in Season two, maybe three. Brody is a Congressman, Carrie is still fucking him – but that won’t work. I give it three weeks. Now that she knows that I’m interested.

Astrid: I’m here in the US to lobby Congressman Brody for a nebulous antiterrorism issue, so I have to be very nice to him. Let’s all have dinner together! Hey Jonas! Come and join us!

Jonas: I’m the US too, lobbying Congressman Brody for the other side of the issue! But I’m getting a little distracted, cause the Congressman’s girlfriend, Carrie something, she is a babe, and her dress… wow. So I’m kind of drunk, and hitting on her. 

Brody: Indeed, I’m a Congressman, and also an asset of the CIA now. That fucker Peter Quinn is directing “The Brody Operation” and newsflash: he’s an asshole. Also, I swore to Estes and to Carrie I didn’t know about Nazir’s plans for the Zombie Outbreak, and that I never met his accomplice, Armano. I swore. Multiple times. And God knows I’m trustworthy. Oh, by the way, dear reader, do you think that Quinn is hitting on Carrie? Cause I’m getting a little suspicious here… But you’re on my side, right? 

Quinn: Carrie, I have to kiss you before midnight.

Carrie: Dream on, buddy. Dear Reader, seriously, Quinn is a friend! I’m not interested in him at all. It’s fun to see him try though. But I wonder who this Astrid woman is. And why was Quinn having dinner with her? Do you know why he was having dinner with her? But who cares? I don’t care. I’m not interested. This “he has to kiss me before midnight,” that’s just silliness. I mean, I’m dating Brody. Bro-dy. Ah well. What time is it?

Quinn: Hey, remember when I put a knife in Brody’s hand? Good times.

(Plus, Zombies!)

 

***

Dinner. Luxurious restaurant in a luxurious hotel, wonderful food, great wine. Brody, Carrie, Quinn, Astrid, Jonas.

Astrid: So, Congressman Brody, let’s get to the point. You’re on my side of the issue, right? I mean, the side of security, the side of reason…

Quinn: The side of reason. Yes. Congressman Brody is such a reasonable man – he makes such reasonable decisions… He lived such a reasonable life…

Astrid: Congressman, I’m sorry. Just ignore Peter. I generally do. 

Brody: Oh, don’t worry, Astrid. I know Peter Quinn. He loves kidding – he is kidding, right now, I’m sure.

Quinn: I do love kidding. I’m a kidder. On the other hand… Hey, I’ll just stop here. At the word “hand.” I like that word. Hand. Hand. Yep, just like the sound. 

Jonas: So, Carrie, what are you doing for a living?

Carrie (to Jonas): I work for the CIA.

Jonas (to Carrie): My condolences.

Quinn: Hand. 

Carrie (to Jonas): Your condolences? Why?

Jonas (to Carrie): Such a waste of brain and talent!

Carrie (to Jonas): You can’t know that. You don’t know my brain, or my talents yet.

Quinn: He meant “cleavage,” Carrie. Mr. Hollander meant: “such a waste of good cleavage;”

Jonas: What? No. Of course I didn’t…

Quinn (to Jonas): You’re right. Sorry.  
Quinn (to Carrie):He meant “breasts”. “Such a waste of a good pair of breasts.” Now, HAND me the salt.

Carrie (to Quinn): How do you manage to be an ass in two conversations at the same time?

Quinn (to Carrie): I multitask.  
Quinn (to Brody) Sometimes politicians can be a HANDful. Ouch. Stop kicking me, Astrid.

Astrid (to Quinn): Well, _my dear_ , I’ll stop kicking you when you stop messing up my WORK. I’m trying to do some lobbying here.

Carrie (to Quinn): So, she just called you “dear. ”That’s a good word too, “dear.” A very _informative_ word.

Astrid (to Carrie): I was just kidding. Quinn and I are not really dating. Do you two know each other?

Quinn (putting his arm around Astrid’s shoulders): Oh, honey, how can you say that? You’re breaking my heart here.

Astrid (to Brody): I’m sorry, Congressman. We’re not dating, really. My _(glaring at Quinn)_ friend here is just being an asshole. Excuse my French.

Quinn: (To Astrid.) That’s not French.  
Quinn: (To Carrie:) When someone feels jealous or dislikes a situation, someone should do something to CHANGE it. Especially when someone has the means. (To Astrid:) Right, _chérie_?

Astrid (to Quinn): Get your hands off me.

Carrie (to Quinn): Change the situation? _I_ don’t want to change the situation.

Brody (to Astrid): Don’t worry. Like I said, I know Peter Quinn, and I share your opinion of him…

Astrid (to Brody): Good. So you won’t hold his stupidity against me? Because this is an important issue and…

Carrie: (to Quinn): … I don’t want to change the fucking situation. The situation is great, the situation is perfect, the situation could not be better.

Carrie (to Jonas:) So tell me more about the During Foundation, Mr. Hollander. I mean, Jonas. Can I call you Jonas? Are all the associates as… handsome as you are?

Quinn: Subtle.

Jonas: Well, my boss is quite the ladies’ man. But me? I’m a romantic.

Quinn: Oh. Come. On. 

Jonas (to Carrie): I’m looking for the perfect companion. You know, someone bright… in the same line of business… With a good sense of humor… Someone who cares about the important issues, and… Well, I mean, if she’s blonde, it’s even better, right?

Carrie (with a seductive smile): I always thought that, despite rumors, being blonde was a sign of high intelligence.

Jonas (with the same seductive smile): I always thought so too. And if when the lady’s blonde AND beautiful, then…

Brody: HEY. Isn’t it me you should be wooing, Mr. Hollander? And not my… girlfriend?

Quinn: Yeah, I’m not sure you’re advancing your cause right now, Mr. Foundation.

Brody: Exactly.

Quinn: Right.

Brody: Thank you, Peter.

Quinn: That can’t be a good lobbying strategy, Mr. Hollander. I mean, hitting on the Congressman’s mistress.

Carrie: I’m not his…

Astrid (with a huge grin): I think Jonas is doing just fine.

 

Quinn’s phone beeped.

**

Quinn looked at it briefly, hoping for another secret text from Carrie, but it was not – the text was from Saul, and when he saw what was in it he stood up, walked away from the table to take a better look at it and – 

Carrie phone beeped too.

 _Fuck._ Don’t look at your phone, Carrie, don’t look at it, Quinn thought. It would be so much better if he could break the news to her slowly, with a little diplomacy, but too late, Carrie stopped smiling at Brody and looked at her screen.

Quinn got back to the table ASAP.

Carrie was still looking at her phone. Then she blinked, and looked again. Then she cast a glance at Quinn, who just held her gaze seriously, trying his best not to convey an “I was right,” or an “I told you so,” expression, no, what he wanted to say was “Don’t freak out,” “we’ll talk about this later,” and also: “I’m your friend and I’m supportive BUT DON’T BRING THIS UP AT THE DINNER TABLE” but, of course, it’s Carrie we’re talking about here.

She turned to Brody and said, slowly, but clearly:

\- We’re over.

There was a stunned silence. Even Quinn didn’t know what to say for a second.

Brody opened his mouth, closed it. His phone beeped.

 _Estes_ , thought Quinn. Who got the news, and transferred the picture to Brody with a “WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING TRAITOR GET YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT NOW and be happy we haven’t started this conversation by putting a bullet in your head” – (or you know, the equivalent in official CIA parlance.) Brody looked at his phone; his eyes grew wide. Everybody at the table was still petrified.

Quinn could almost read Brody’s thoughts. He had just seen the picture – the picture dating from a year ago. The picture of Brody in a room, with Nazir, and Moretti, and Armano – the picture that meant Brody had been lying all along, when he had sworn and sworn again to Estes, to Carrie, to everybody that he had never met the fucker – that he had no idea that Armano was preparing the virus for the Zombies’ outbreak. So yes, Brody lied (again) and ok, Quinn thought, sure enough, right now, Brody was trying to find a way to spin the story… 

Brody turned to Carrie.

\- It’s not what you think.

Carrie glared at him.

\- Oh, really? 

\- We… should go, Astrid said, with a look at Jonas – but Brody raised his hand:

\- No. Nobody moves. Nothing interesting is happening here.

Astrid froze – she and Jonas looked briefly at each other. 

\- But…

\- Nothing has changed, Brody said, looking significantly at Carrie. What I told you is still true.

\- Oh come on, Carrie seethed. You…

\- This is NOT the time or the place, Quinn interrupted. Congressman Brody, let’s talk in private. NOW.

\- We really should leave… Astrid began, but Brody almost yelled:

\- Nobody. Fucking. Moves.

Brody hoped to stop time, Quinn thought, like he hoped to control the situation, to keep things from unraveling through sheer force of will… for a second Quinn almost felt sorry for the guy… almost. Or maybe Brody thought that as long as there were witnesses, Carrie wouldn’t really break up with him – which proved he didn’t know her at all.

\- I am not going to reveal any state secrets, of course, Carrie said to Quinn, she was icy too, perfectly in control, she turned to Brody with a smile Quinn hoped never to see directed at him.

\- You swore to me you never met… these people, she stated. And you did. So, Brody, you and me, we’re over.

\- We really ARE leaving now, Astrid said. 

She stood up, Jonas wasn’t moving – but Brody stood up too, and smiled gallantly at Astrid.

\- No, please, Ms. Wagner, finish your dinner in peace. I am the one who has to go anyway. 

He had his phone in hand – Brody had to go and meet Estes, Quinn thought – he had to obey the order… better not be late or half the CIA operatives in the country would be instructed to hunt him and kill him on sight. Brody put his vest back on, slowly, and said:

\- We’re not over, Carrie.

\- Yes we are, she answered.

\- No we aren’t, he stated, while Astrid and Jonas were looking like they had been kidnapped and chained to their seats and sentenced to watch the worst soap-opera ever; Brody turned to leave, not before adding:

\- No. We’re on a break. That’s all I’m giving you.

\- We’re over! Carrie yelled at him while he walked away, “On a break!” Brody answered while not even turning his head, then he pushed the door violently and disappeared from the restaurant.

***

Brody walked briskly on the sidewalk, (it was getting cold), anger and worry fueling him, fuck, fuck; why now? Things were going so well, he had Carrie, his political career, he really thought he was starting over – but come on, the game was not lost, maybe he could turn this to his favor. Brody began to mentally rehearse what he was going to say to Estes, and Carrie… he would get Carrie back, he would, anyway he had not lied, I mean, yes, of course he had lied about not meeting Nazir’s allies at the time, but in all sincerity, Brody had no idea they were preparing such a big attack – he had no idea about the virus, I mean, how do you just guess somebody is concocting a Zombie Outbreak virus, right? He hadn’t known, and that was the truth – FUCK – why did Carrie have to see this picture and - where was that fucking valet anyway? It was a high class establishment, he needed his car now, there was valet service, where the hell was the guy and –

Brody froze.

There _should_ have been a valet.

And it was night. And the street was weirdly deserted. And he was alone.

Brody slowly took out his gun. (As an asset under high surveillance, he was not supposed to carry one, but fuck that.) 

He listened. And waited.

The first shadow moved behind the black car, on his left – Brody shot right away, without waiting, yes, it could have been an old lady getting ready to cross the street, but guess what, it was not, it was a guy with a gun - before the man’s body had hit the sidewalk Brody had already taken cover, he saw the other one on the balcony across the street, ducked just in time, three shots, they missed him, but Brody did not miss, two men down, he got the third who thought he was being clever by trying to get behind him – ok. Three bodies. It was over – Brody took their wallets and guns, thinking quickly, his first idea was that Estes had sent guys to murder him after all (but why not ask Quinn to put a bullet in his head discreetly somewhere) but no – he looked at the passports - those were not government goonies. They were not even Americans.

Armano’s guys. 

Armano had sent people to kill him.

Brody ran to the parking, took the keys from the dead valet pocket and got to his car. Actually… That attack was good news. Because it meant that the bad guys thought that Brody knew something important. And it was not a coincidence that they appeared just after that picture. Ok. Something was going on. Brody was going to use all this as leverage with Estes, and then, yes, he’d manage to get Carrie back, somehow. 

The situation was still manageable.

Brody turned the engine on. A few seconds after he was gone, leaving three bodies on the sidewalk. (Plus the valet’s corpse, in the parking lot.)

None of the bodies had been properly shot in the head.

The first body began to move.

***

\- Ok. We are leaving, now, Astrid said.

Jonas stood up reluctantly.

\- You’re right.

\- I’ve got to get laid tonight, Carrie muttered.

Jonas sat down again.

\- On the other hand… The lobster ravioli look excellent, he said. It would be a shame to…

\- I’ve got to get laid, like, right now, Carrie added, visibly distracted. I’ve got to show this fucker…

\- Nobody’s getting laid tonight, Quinn intervened. Carrie, I’ll drive you home. Come on.

\- Well, Jonas mused, if the lady is feeling tense… A little physical exertion is, indeed, an excellent way to, erm, relax…

\- The _lady_ is going to sleep it off, Quinn grumbled.

\- The _lady_ is going to make her own decisions, Carrie said, glaring at Quinn. And sleep off what? I’m not drunk. I’m just… I don’t know. Mad. Really, really mad. I mean, fuck, Quinn.

\- So you too do know each other, Astrid said slowly.

\- Hi, everybody, said a waiter (and everybody jumped.) Sorry to interrupt… But I just wanted to say, Congressman Brody has a running account here, so after you finish your entrées, if any of you want some dessert… Or something to drink…

\- Oh, that changes everything! (Astrid sat back down too.) Yes, please, sir. We want… one, no, two, no... three bottles of champagne for the table, please. Something good. Something pricey. 

\- And NOW I’m going to get drunk, Carrie declared, while the waiter went to fetch their order.

\- No, Carrie, you should… Quinn began. 

Astrid was looking him with a strange look on her face. She interrupted.

\- I should order more, on Brody’s dime. That fucker. (She turned to Jonas.) I mean, that whole trip, for nothing. Forget the lobbying. Now that we witnessed this little lovers spat, the Congressman won’t ever want to see our faces again. 

\- That’s true, Jonas said. (He smiled to Carrie.) So I have to find a way to make this trip worthwhile.

\- We are LEAVING, Quinn intervened. Right Carrie?

Astrid looked at the bottles which had just appeared on the table.

\- Do what you want, Peter. I’m not budging from here till there’s a drop of alcohol left. 

Carrie nodded.

\- Sounds like a plan.

They drank the first bottle, then the second, then the third, while Jonas was whispering God knows what in Carrie’s ear and Quinn’s mood was getting darker and darker. 

\- Come on, Carrie, I am taking you home, he ordered (for the tenth time).

\- Not yet, Carrie protested, her voice slurred.

\- Not yet! Jonas repeated (and from the sound of his voice he was in even worse shape than her.) I want to show Carrie… a book. In my bedroom. 

Astrid giggled. And giggled again, while Quinn looked at the two women with growing desperation.

\- A book, Astrid repeated. You have no books, Jonas.

\- I have a book! Jonas answered, offended. A book about German cathedrals.

\- I want to see the German cathedrals, Carrie said. (And then she turned to Quinn with a provocative look.) Unless you have a better offer, of course. 

Quinn stared back at her, stunned… while Jonas protested. 

\- Hey! Why is he suddenly in the conversation? He is not in the conversation. 

\- I don’t know, Carrie said, still looking right as Quinn. Are you in the conversation? 

\- Why are you even looking at the guy? Jonas protested, his voice very unsteady. I’m more handsome than him. I mean, objectively. 

\- It’s not the cathedrals you want to show her, Astrid giggled, still inebriated. It’s… the bell tower. With the, erm, bells. 

\- I am not in the conversation tonight, Quinn said to Carrie, icily. You’re drunk. And in shock. 

\- I guess you’re more into other people’s conversations, Carrie added, with a quick glare in Astrid’s direction. 

\- Hee hee. Bells, Astrid repeated. 

\- Carrie, Quinn grumbled. You are not in a state to make informed decisions. 

\- I am more handsome than that guy, right? Jonas asked, gesturing toward Quinn. Right? Astrid? 

\- Nope, Astrid answered right away, who was drinking the fourth champagne bottle she had just ordered without bothering to use a glass.

\- What? That’s bullshit, Jonas said. Carrie? What do you think? Objectively. Who’s more handsome? Him or me?

Carrie hesitated, while Quinn was rolling his eyes so hard. 

\- Well, she started. _Objectively_ , I think…

… and then screams and shots were heard in the direction of the kitchen and all hell broke loose. 

**

There were only three Zombies at the beginning, the authorities established later. Three Zombies who had eaten the valet’s corpse, and after, they’d bitten a few other employees, who had found their way into the kitchen and eaten some of the cooking staff; the cook had been devoured alive near his bouillabaisse and other employees were infected, and, long story short, an hour later, eighteen zombies in pristine hotel uniforms shuffled into the living room. Everybody began to scream; Quinn, Astrid and Carrie jumped from their seats, guns in hands (“Hey, why does everybody have guns?!” Jonas protested). Quinn began to shout instructions, a lot of Zombies lost their heads, but the problem was, guests were losing theirs too - running in panic instead of evacuating in order, so a few of them were eaten alive too, and now there was blood everywhere and screams and bodies and body parts in the lobster ravioli and all the lights went off for some reason. Carrie (who was still very drunk) found herself running toward one of the hotel’s corridors, or, to be exact, Quinn was dragging her, they arrived in a place where lights were still working and Quinn must have been dragging Astrid too because she was yelling at him and he was yelling back : 

\- You’re still drunk, Astrid! In fact, you both are! 

\- I can take care of myself! Astrid shouted. 

\- No, you can’t! Stay with me!

\- I’ll do what I fucking want! Astrid shouted back. Stay here and protect your fucking girlfriend!! Astrid, added, gesturing at Carrie, who grumbled: 

\- God. I need coffee. 

There was an open bedroom door on the left - screams were still coming from the restaurant area, Carrie entered the bedroom while Quinn and Astrid were still yelling at each other, someone had clearly fled the place in a hurry because the contents of a Chanel handbag were scattered on the floor. “Advil!” Carrie cried happily, finding some on the nightstand, but better yet, there was a coffee machine, and ok, sure, there was also a huge Zombie in blue pajamas hobbling near it, but drunk Carrie was not going to stop for a fucking Zombie, right? So she put the capsule in the machine, the Zombie tried to get her, she pushed him back with her elbow, the coffee was pouring, the Zombie tried to bite her arm but Carrie pushed him back again, she looked for sugar, the Zombie attacked, growling, Carrie got the coffee safely away just in time, she took a step back, kicked at the zombie, who growled again, Carrie put in the sugar and stirred, now the Zombie was really mad and he lunged at her but Carrie stepped back prudently (because of the coffee) and the Zombie stumbled in his own pajamas pants and fell, Carrie yawned and walked out and closed the door just when the Zombie was getting up again.

Then she began to drink her coffee. Quinn shouted: 

\- Astrid! Come the fuck back here!

… and he ran toward her in pursuit; Carrie took her Advils, one after another, she heard a noise behind her; it was too much trouble to take a look, but then Quinn turned around, a horrified expression on his face.

\- Carrie! Duck! he yelled.

\- You’re so misogynistic! she protested, not moving an inch. Always ordering women around!

… and that must have struck a chord because Quinn began to shoot at her – ok, not really, he shot at the six Zombies who were ready to devour Carrie from behind, then he ran to her, cursing, and grabbed her elbow “my coffee!!” she protested, too late, the coffee was spilled and now they were running toward the direction Astrid had disappeared in; they arrived at the elevators, three more corridors, Astrid was nowhere in sight, Quinn stopped, shouting:

\- FUCK! 

\- Cathedrals, Carrie giggled again, and then she added: kiss me. 

\- What? (Quinn was looking around, gun ready.) 

\- Kiss me! Carrie ordered. You said you’d kiss me today. You said you’d kiss me before midnight. Well, it’s nearly midnight!

\- I’m not kissing you in this state.

\- You said you would, Carrie protested.

\- Well, circumstances change. 

\- Fine! I don’t care! I wasn’t interested anyway!

\- Good. Now shut up!

\- Kiss me!

\- No!

\- You’re an asshole! And I need more coffee, Carrie cried, and she entered another bedroom – while Quinn protested:

\- Come back here! Fuck, Carrie…

Quinn followed her into the room, she was already making coffee, no Zombie in sight.

\- Why don’t you want to kiss me? she yelled, gesturing with her new coffee in hand, so she spilled hot liquid everywhere, “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered furiously, so she yelled at him some more and he yelled at her and finally she shouted:

\- Go away then! You’re fucking useless! 

\- Fine! 

Quinn marched angrily out of the room, (Dear Reader don’t worry, he had no intention of leaving her for real), he got back in the hotel corridor and he fell into a HUGE hole.

**

Yeah, you read right. The floor just gave way beneath Quinn's feet and he fell into a hole. Right into a sublevel one, with a loud CRASH.

Carrie stayed immobile for a second, petrified.

Now, let’s pause for a second, Dear Reader, because maybe you’re wondering why would the floor suddenly give way in this otherwise very nice hotel and why on earth a structural defect in the building would be connected to a Zombie attack - ok, maybe you're thinking, did the Zombies make the building tremble in any way? (The answer is no.) I can hear you protesting, how does the apparition of that hole even makes sense? And I’m telling you, it does. But I can’t explain it to you, gentle reader, because it’s connected to super-duper expert architectural stuff, and also state secrets, and some of it is classified and for fuck's sake, there was a hole ok? And Quinn fell in it.

**

Carrie stayed immobile for a second, petrified. Two seconds. Three.

She couldn’t move (combat paralysis, it’s called) when fear actually freezes you and you lose your fight or flight reflex – it was as if all the alcohol had disappeared from her organism in a fraction of second - ok, maybe the coffee and the Xanex also helped. Then at last she regained her senses – but she couldn’t scream, couldn’t call, her throat was too tight, she walked to the hole – yes, she walked, she didn’t run – if she ran, then she’d see Quinn’s body - she’d see him dead on the floor below, impaled on something and…

Quinn was not dead. Or at least, there was no body. No Quinn at all, in fact. The floor had caved in, yes, and underneath there was what seemed to be another hotel floor. No Quinn – but Zombies, at least three of them, maybe more (Carrie couldn’t see well). Her heart stopped, but they were not eating anything, just growling – looking up right at her – she tried to call again, but she has lost her voice, it took her three attempts to finally cry out his name, no answer – just more growling – she ran in the direction of the stairs (she couldn’t jump in the hole, the Zombies would eat her on arrival), she couldn’t breathe – because it was her fault – down the stairs – her fault, she got drunk, and Quinn had to take care of her, if she had not been drunk – if she had been functional he would have followed Astrid, and he would be safe now - if she had not yelled at him to get out that bedroom – she had killed him – she arrived downstairs – nothing. 

No noise, no Quinn, no Zombies. 

Only corridors and doors – you’ve seen _The Shining_ , right? Well, same thing, but with Zombies – well, with the threat of zombies, because there was none in sight – shots were fired somewhere, Carrie began to run again, calling– nothing – no one – then she turned to the left, trying to get oriented – there! There was the hole, only one Zombie was still lingering, she stopped, shot him, multiple times, it was not alcohol that made her miss her mark the first time, it was fear, but not for her – the Zombie’s head finally exploded, Carrie resumed her running, hope and fear mingling (if she hadn’t seen Quinn’s body yet then maybe it meant he had walked away from his fall and was safe somewhere) and then she saw it, a Zombie eating a human hand – blood everywhere on the wall - she almost screamed – she turned the corner –

And there Quinn was.

That fucker.

He was totally fine. Perfectly, absolutely fine, looking very handsome, helping an elderly lady and her five grandchildren (five!) to get out through a broken window, two dead zombies bleeding out in the corner. 

\- Hey, Carrie, Quinn said. Good, can you hand me the purse here… Here you are, ma’am, here’s your bag, yes, climb here, just go straight to the police’s car… Kids, come on… Slowly… Follow your grandmother…

Carrie just watched. Out went the kids, out went the grandmother, who thanked Quinn profusely, the kids were already running toward the police car, “be careful!” Quinn added, before closing the window again.

\- Stay here, Carrie, he said. I want to sweep the rest of the floor. (Then he saw her look.) What?

\- I… Nothing, she said. (Before adding, in a very neutral voice.) I thought you were dead.

He shrugged.

\- Why?

He counted the bullets he had left, prepared his military knife, and Carrie couldn’t help but stare. He didn’t notice it at first, then he did; he looked back, a little puzzled. Then he just stared back.

It lasted for a long time.

\- Quinn, I’m sorry, Carrie said. And… I’m not… drunk anymore. 

He didn’t answer. 

\- I mean, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I put you in danger. It was my fault. I was… it was bad, and you fell into that hole… I’m sorry.

\- It’s fine, Quinn answered after a short silence. Actually, it was a hell of a good thing. If I hadn’t been here, that lady and the kids would have been… 

He shrugged. He seemed a little tense. There was a strange energy in the room.

\- Yeah, well, I’m sorry anyway, Carrie repeated. 

Her heart was in her throat.

\- Two days ago, I locked you up in a basement full of Zombies*. Let’s say we’re even. 

* _(Previous chapter, Dear Reader.)_

\- Sure, Carrie said. Ok.

She saw a little bottle of water on the table across the room, grabbed it and drank a long gulp. 

Quinn was alive. Suddenly the future made sense. Or maybe not, the future didn’t make sense, at all, it was all muddled, but at least that muddled future had a Quinn in it… Because Carrie had a vision, when she was running, in those dreary corridors, she had a flash of a universe without Quinn, without… his stupid jokes and his constant presence, his scolding, his support, and… his interest, obviously, and that Quinn-free universe was – horrible – empty - she meant, you know, as a friend, of course, as a trusted presence in her life – he was looking at her silently.

Somewhere on the ground floor, shots began to resonate, in a methodical, cautious rhythm. Those were not “Help! Zombies are everywhere and we’re panicking!” shots, they were “We’re controlling the situation and securing the zone.” shots. 

\- I called for help, Quinn explained. And who knows? Maybe the Z-Swat is here. 

Carrie chuckled. The Z-Swats were the butt of constant jokes, it was like the cavalry, they always, always arrived too late.

\- Right, she quipped back. Miracles happen. (She looked at her phone.) The outbreak started, what, 30 minutes ago? she added. And now it’s 11:51. I mean, it’s almost midnight, and they…

And then she realized what she had just said, and stopped abruptly. 

The silence was even more tense now. 

A new pause. 

\- Let’s go. There could be other people trapped here, Quinn stated.

\- Ok.

So they began to sweep the floor, and found a lone middle aged couple locked in a room, and no more zombies, so they directed them to the police outside (as usual, the local police was doing a better job than the Z-Swats), then the floor was empty and they both looked at that clock in a little hall on the left (with an ice machine and a coffee machine and an abandoned pile of clean towels). 

11:59.

They went back in the corridor, with its blood stained carpeting and its white walls and the flickering lights.

Quinn turned to Carrie.

\- I…

And suddenly they were kissing, under the flickering lights, near the fresh blood stains; and Quinn had his hand in Carrie’s hair and the kiss was… there was so much… It was so … fervent and… tender and… not stopping… and... then it stopped, abruptly, for no valid reason. 

Carrie stifled a laugh.

\- Well, that was… timely, she murmured.

\- Well, you know, the, the – time - it was – I had to, he answered, his voice not totally steady. 

\- Of… Of course…

\- It was – as you said, I promised, so…

\- Sure and – it’s – well, it’s past midnight now, Carrie stuttered, so it’s over - we don’t have to…

\- Right, he answered.

… and suddenly they were kissing again and it was a little desperate, so passionate, _crazy_ , Carrie thought, she was crazy, it was crazy to feel like... like she was feeling right now and… 

\- Step the FUCK away from her, Brody seethed.

They both jumped – Carrie and Quinn - Carrie took a step back – they both stared at Brody, who was in the corridor, gun in hand, looking at them with a look that… well, let’s just say he was NOT happy with the situation.

Carrie stayed here, gaping, for a few seconds, before uttering:

\- Brody - it’s… It’s not what you think.

\- What? Quinn protested. It is _exactly_ what he thinks.

\- I mean… No… Brody, we’ve broken up! Carrie objected (very conscious of Quinn’s gun and of Brody’s gun and too many fucking guns in this fucking small corridor and…) What the hell are you even doing here?

\- What do you think? Brody yelled. I came back for you, Carrie! I heard the news on the radio about the hotel outbreak and I came back to get you! 

\- Oh my God, Carrie muttered. Estes will kill you. You won’t show up on time, and he will think you fled and he will…

\- FUCKING FORGET about Estes, Brody said, taking a step nearer. (He waved his gun in Quinn’s direction.) I knew you wanted to fuck her. I just knew…

\- Don’t take another step, Quinn grumbled (and now his gun was in his hand too, at Carrie’s growing horror.) 

\- Brody, wait. We’re broken up, she repeated.

Brody shook his head.

\- We’re on a break.

\- Well, fine, we were – we are on a break, absolutely, great, perfect, Carrie stammered, so nobody did anything wrong here, right? (She gestured in Quinn’s direction.) Forget about this, Brody. It... It’s nothing, it doesn’t count, she added after a furtive look to Quinn, ( _Please help me out here_ , the look was saying, but it seemed Quinn had no intention to help at all.)

\- Oh, it counts, Quinn said, in a dangerous voice – then he smiled, a feral smile, his stare going from Carrie to Brody. It counts. In fact, you’re a great kisser Carrie, let’s do it again soon, ok?

\- You fucker, Carrie grumbled, and she didn’t wait for Brody’s reaction, she walked toward him, putting herself in the way of any bullets that could fly one way or the other, and she began to drag Brody away, whispering:

\- Listen, we have to talk, ok? We have to talk, we’ll talk, we’ll sort everything out, but now we have to get back to Estes, we have to go right now, Brody, and I will come with you, because if you go there alone… (She turned to Quinn.) If I don’t go with him they will shoot him.

Quinn just raised his eyebrows.

\- Perfect solution.

\- Let’s go NOW, Brody, Carrie growled, but Brody didn’t move, and she saw the wheels turn in his mind.

There was a tense pause, before he answered, slowly.

\- Ok.

\- Ok?

\- Yes, he said, never getting his eyes off Quinn. Let’s go see Estes. And then let’s talk.

\- Great, Carrie breathed.

She had never felt more relieved in her life. She began to walk briskly toward the stairs, but Brody didn’t follow her, well, not right away, he raised his hand in a peace gesture, lowered his gun, walked to Quinn and said, in a very low voice:

\- I’m going to kill you. One day you’ll forget to look – you’ll be distracted – just for one second, and I’m going to kill you.

Then he joined Carrie, who was already near the elevators.

**

Rob was sweeping the third floor of the hotel when he heard the shots. One every thirty seconds, a calm, measured rhythm. A few moments later he found her, in the middle of the corridor. 

She was sitting in a very comfortable armchair (dragged from a nearby bedroom.) She was smoking - with her left hand, cause she had a gun in her right, she had put a cleaner cart as a sort of barrage a few feet from her, and on the other side of the cart were a heap of dead zombies… each time one stumbled forward, she just shot it, from her armchair. Good plan, Rob thought.

\- Hi! Careful! Human here, he said – he was arriving from behind and didn’t want to take a bullet too.

\- Welcome, the woman said, not even turning her head. I think you’re a little late to the game.

\- I can see that, Rob said, walking to the cart and looking at the pile of dead.

Then he turned back to the woman – she was blond, dressed in an elegant evening dress, looking very femme fatale.

And what was it – a German accent?

\- Good evening. I’m Rob, he said.

\- Astrid. Are you with the Z-Swat?

\- No, he laughed. A friend asked for help, so I came here with my team – they’re downstairs, finishing the job. (He gestured at the pile of dead flesh.) Where do they all come from?

\- I’m not sure, Astrid said. A sports team, maybe? I’m not an expert. Baseball?

\- Maybe, said Rob, moving a body with the tip of his boot. All head shots. You’re good.

\- Yes.

There was a silence. Rob was looking at the woman – beautiful face – and then, you know, his eyes went lower, studying the dress – and everything that was inside it. Astrid didn’t lower her gaze.

\- I had a very bad evening, she announced.

\- I’m sorry to hear that.

\- And I’m a little bored right now.

\- This is a very nice dress. Did you come here with someone? Rob asked, slowly. 

\- The man I expected to spend the night with is more interested in another woman, it seems.

\- He’s a fool.

\- I agree.

New silence.

\- There’s a bedroom right there, Rob said. Actually several of them. And they’re safe. I just checked them.

\- Don’t your men need you downstairs?

\- Nah. They’ll be fine. 

\- Ok, Astrid said, standing up. (Then she suppressed a giggle.) Bells.

Rob had a puzzled smile.

\- Are you drunk?

\- Oh my God, so drunk, Astrid answered. Is that gonna be a problem?

\- Not. At. All, Rob answered, and when they opened the door half of his shirt was already unbuttoned.

**

It already had been an half an hour drive and Brody and Carrie were still fighting.

\- We were on a break!! Carrie yelled.

\- For ten seconds! Are you kidding me, Carrie? Three seconds after I left he already had his fucking tongue in your fucking mouth!

\- You lied to me! To your whole country! To our government!

\- You lied to me for _months_! You swore Quinn was not interested in you!

\- Well, he’s not! I mean, he was not! I mean, he… I… You’re a terrorist! _Again!_

\- You cheated on me!!

\- I did not!

\- You always intended to cheat on me! You were flirting with everybody! I mean, Quinn and that guy and…

Carrie froze. Brody looked at her, a little worried.

\- What?

\- Oh my God, Carrie muttered.

\- What?

\- Jonas.

**

Once the Zombies had finished eating Jonas they settled calmly in the room, shuffling and shambling around, with no particular purpose. Hours passed, shots were heard but the Zombies paid no heed, and around 2am the bedroom door opened.

Three men in black, heavily armed, entered the room.

\- Ah damn. I think we’re a little late, said the leader, with a heavy Italian/Pakistani accent.

(What? Of course Italian/Pakistani accents exist, Dear Reader. My God. Your reaction is so racist.)

\- You’re sure that was Jonas Hollander? asked the second.

\- Yeah, look, said the third. That’s his arm right here… and part of his face and hair, there, by the nightstand…

The first man shook his head.

\- Poor guy. That’s not a good way to die.

The third man shrugged.

\- I don’t know. Considering what Armano wanted to do to him…

\- So, what now?

The leader took a picture of the body with his phone, and said:

\- We’ll just have grab the next guy on the list.

\- Who?

\- A certain… Otto During. Come on. Let's go. 

\- Hey, the third man said, looking out of the window. Here comes the Z-Swat.

**

Once Jonas' death was confirmed, and once the (very tense) meeting between Estes and Brody was over, and once all the hotel Zombies had been killed, and all the consequences of that crappy mess of a day had been taken care of, Carrie turned to Brody in the CIA parking lot.

\- I'm not dumping you, she stated.

\- Well, I would certainly hope so, Brody answered. Actually, I think ..

Carrie interrupted.

\- But I want an open relationship.

\- What? 

\- You heard me.

 

(To be continued…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, it's not over! We've opened a Carrie/Quinn fanfiction book club, the discussion has started, it's right here:
> 
> http://homelandstuff.livejournal.com/11871.html?view=364639#t364639


End file.
